


(Tell Me) I'm the One You Want

by Unforth



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Anal Sex, Bondage, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Dom Steve Rogers, Dysphoria, First Meetings, Gender Dysphoria, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Sub Bucky Barnes, Top Steve Rogers, Trans Steve Rogers, dom/sub verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 04:51:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14277288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforth/pseuds/Unforth
Summary: Steve went to the club for a one night stand, but so far he's striking out. Whenever someone approaches him they take one hard look and move on. It's enough to drive a man crazy.Until a swarthy stranger approaches him...now if only that man is a sub, maybe Steve's night isn't a total loss after all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a thing. This first chapter has already been posted to Tumblr. Second chapter is written and needs to be edited; I expect to post it tomorrow.
> 
> In case you aren't familiar with dom/sub verses, they're settings where dom and sub are inborn traits (...just like gender. Ha.)

Steve forced a welcoming smile onto his face as he observed a woman approaching from the corner of his eye. He'd been hoping for a man, but he wasn't picky and he'd struck out so consistently that he was well past turning down anyone who might consider him a suitable partner. Once upon a time he wouldn't have considered settling for a one night stand who wasn't enthusiastically on board, but after so long, and so much disappointment...

* _Beggars can't be choosers. Nut up or shut up, Steve..._ *

"Evening! Can I buy you a..." Steve trailed off as the woman's steps slowed until she stopped feet away. She side-eyed him, grimaced, shook her head, and deliberately turned and walked away.

Steve sighed.

Struck out again.

Struck out without even a word of greeting in reply to his overtures.

Struck out even though she had initiated contact by approaching.

* _What does she see when she looks at me?_ *

* _No. Don't think like that. It doesn't matter what assumptions she draws based on my appearance. I know who I am._ *

* _But wouldn't it be nice, even once, if..._ *

He sighed, using the tattered paper umbrella that came with his drink to poke at the ice in his empty glass.

Why did he bother coming to the bar?

Why did he bother looking for a hookup?

Why did he bother pretending to be things he wasn't?

* _Bullshit. Yes, batting .000 is frustrating, but that doesn't change my identity. Fuck my dysphoria._ *

* _I_ * am * _a dom._ *

* _I_ * am * _a man._ *

* _If my being who I am drives away a potential hookup than they were never actually a potential hookup._ *

* _But that doesn't make it less frustrating when I fail again..._ *

Another stranger caught his eye, scowled, and turned up their nose.

* _...and again..._ *

A man set a drink down next to him, but before Steve could say hello, the man gestured to someone sitting several seats down, who responded with cheerful alacrity. The two sauntered toward the dance floor together, one sparing Steve a sneer.

* _...and again..._ *

Two women sashayed toward him only to swerve away at the last moment in a futile attempt to make it look like they hadn't been coming his way.

* _...and_ * again.

* _There has got to be a bar more open to people like me somewhere in this damn city..._ *

There wasn't. Steve had checked. Even for the most queer of queer bars in New York City, Steve was an outlier. Letting go a long, slow, unhappy breath, he stared after the departing women and reached for his wallet. Time to pay his tab and put an end to this night's round of self-flagellation by disappointment. Maybe next time, he'd have better luck. There had to be * _someone_ * who'd--

"Is this seat taken?"

A deep male voice spoke behind him and Steve froze, hand in his pocket, half risen from his seat. Already resigned to the inevitable - * _he's not talking to me, or he'll see my face and make an excuse, or...or...or..._ * - Steve swiveled his barstool around and froze, mouth open to begin a speech that failed him as he saw who spoke to him. The man was gorgeous, tall, broad, swarthy, with long hair pulled back in a ponytail that shed shorter black locks about his ears and the nape of his neck. Even more arresting, he didn't flinch from Steve, didn't falter when he caught sight of Steve's face. His smile didn't slip, still crinkling his sparkling eyes. No, even more remarkable - the stranger's smile * _widened._ *

"No?" Steve managed.

"You don't sound sure." Humor enriched the man's voice, rendering it yet more sumptuous, alluring, beautiful. Despite the doubt implied by the words, he straddled the stool beside Steve and raised a hand to signal the bartender. "Maybe I can convince you?"

"Of what?" asked Steve blankly, captivated by how the club's spinning rainbow of lights twinkled and reflected in the man's dark eyes.

"I'm Bucky," said the man.

"You're going to convince me of your name?" Steve said, grinning.

"I'm going to convince you that I'm the sub for you," Bucky said.

* _Holy shit...you don't have to say a word, I'm already convinced._ *

That such a man would even consider Steve... "Are you, now?" Steve replied. "That sounds farfetched." He imbued his tone with as much warmth as he could, hoping by expression to make it clear he was kidding, he was interested, he wanted to continue their discussion. Bucky laughed and Steve's nerves eased. Bucky didn't think Steve was dismissing him. Thank fricken God.

"What'll you have?" The bartender asked, directing the question to Bucky. Of course he did. Bucky looked like a dom, and Steve looked like a sub, and...

"He'll have..." Steve eyed Bucky, considering what drink order would be appropriate. The bartender looked startled but turned to Steve, and Bucky eased into a smile that was two parts cocky and one part easy and calm and achingly sweet. "Two fingers of Glenfiddich 18."

The bartender acknowledged the order with an incline of his head and turned to his selection of top shelf alcohol.

"High roller," Bucky observed.

"I thought you would like it," Steve replied. Bucky blinked and his expression softened, his cheeks flushed. He bobbed his head and looked away from Steve, looked back up to meet Steve's firm, unwavering gaze, and looked away once more. Raking a hand through his hair, thoroughly disheveling his ponytail, Bucky looked adorable. Approving warmth settled in Steve's gut.

* _My sub,_ * Steve thought experimentally, and the warmth burgeoned outward. * _That sounds good...that sounds perfect._ *

"Well?" said Steve. Bucky blinked and shot him a questioning look. "Weren't you going to convince me that I should take you on as a sub?"

"Right..." murmured Bucky. "Well--" The bartender interrupted, plunking a tumbler of golden whiskey before Bucky. Bucky took it up and drank it in a single swallow. "You should--"

"No," Steve interrupted. "Bartender, another two fingers please. Bucky, that is * _not_ * how you drink Glenfiddich. It should be savored. Now, when he brings another, you will show me you appreciate the drink. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Bucky replied docilely, lips pursed in shame.

"So, you were saying?"

"I should be your sub." Bucky's confident tone was at odds with his submissive body language. Steve waited, expecting him to continue, but he said nothing more.

"...why?"

A second tumbler was set down and Bucky took a sip, eyes slipping shut as he appreciated the rich, smoky flavor. Steve resisted the urge to order one for himself. He'd already had a few drinks and was pleasantly buzzed; he wouldn't risk getting more drunk. He wanted to have no doubts about consent, no reason to fear that liquid courage accounted for his interest in Bucky or Bucky's interest in him.

"Good..." said Steve. Bucky flushed again and took another sip.

"I should be your sub because I'll be so good for you, sir."

"Will you, now?" God, it felt awesome to assert himself, to not be doubted, to settle into the role that he'd been born for no matter how his fucked up genes had missassigned his designation. Bucky obeyed him, heeded him, submitted to him automatically and comfortably. The interaction was so gratifying that Steve was dizzy on satisfaction and desire.

"I'll be * _so_ * good," Bucky vowed.

"Come back to my place and prove it to me," Steve ordered.

Bucky flushed once more, took another sip, and looked up with wide, hopeful eyes. There was something in his expression, almost surprised, almost plaintive, and Steve realized...Bucky was as amazed and pleased to be accepted as a sub as Steve was to be accepted as a dom.

"Yes, sir."

* _Even if we do nothing else, meeting Bucky has already gratified all the disappointments I've experienced since I first transitioned..._ *

* _...but damn do I hope we'll do, oh, all kinds of things._ *

"Good boy."

Bucky's smile was...spectacular, beautiful, perfect. Steve's apartment suddenly seemed awfully far away.

* _...but Bucky is worth the wait._ *

Steve smiled back, set a fifty on the bar, and took Bucky's arm, guiding him to the exit. Bucky settled into stride at his side, a half step behind him, docile and steerable, hot in every sense of the word. The other patrons at the club eyed them and stepped out of the way, a few with approving smiles but most with...confusion, Steve thought.

* _Who cares what they think? I know who I am...Bucky knows who he is...and we now know each other...even if it's only for the night..._ *

"So good," murmured Steve, petting Bucky's arm.

"Thank you, sir," Bucky whispered as they stepped into the cool breeze of a spring night. "I promise, I'll behave."

"I know you will," Steve said. "I know."

"I know..." Bucky echoed contentedly.

* _...but hot damn do I hope this isn't only for the night..._ *

* * *

 

"You stop me if I do anything you don't like," said Steve, pursing his lips as he circled Bucky and considered how to begin their scene. He'd imagined so many scenarios he wanted to implement as a dom that he was swamped by ideas. He wanted to try all of them with Bucky, reduce the beautiful man to a moaning, desperate, begging wreck, but there wasn't time. If they were to have only one night...

...he had to make what time they had count. Maybe, if Steve did a good enough job, he'd have the opportunity to be Bucky's dom again.

There was no doubt in Steve's mind that Bucky would be a good enough as a sub that Steve would want to be with him again.

Bucky knelt on a cushion on Steve's living room floor, eyes closed, breaths even, only a flush to his cheeks to hint at arousal. In the quiet of the room every sound was amplified: the whoosh of Bucky's inhalations and exhalations, the rustle of Steve's clothing as he admired Bucky, the thrum of blood and desire buzzing in Steve's ear. Bucky was perfection, even more handsome in Steve's apartment than he'd appeared at the bar, and Steve struggled to believe that such a man, such a sub, had left the bar with Steve, was prepared to be dominated by Steve.

* _He must have a foot on me at least, and fifty pounds, if not a hundred..._ *

* _...and he's prepared to obey me unquestioningly. How amazing is that?_ *

"I expect you to answer me when I speak to you," Steve scolded.

A wounded sound leaked from Bucky. "What...what did you say?"

"And I expect you to * _listen._ *"

"Yes, sir." Bucky swallowed and his flush deepened. "Sorry, sir."

"What is your safeword?" asked Steve.

"Don't need one," Bucky said, and despite his subservient body language he sounded sullen.

* _Rebellious...that's inappropriate. Should I punish him? It feels too early in our interactions for me to assert my control. I don't want to punish him._ *

"You * _do_ * need one," Steve insisted. "We're strangers and I don't know your limits, your triggers, or your preferences. You * _will_ * tell me if I cross any lines and make you uncomfortable, and you * _will_ * select a safeword. Do you understand?"

* _But how will he learn to respect me, why should he obey me, if I don't make it clear that his actions have consequences? Isn't that what a real dom would do?_ *

"Bucky..."

* _I am a real dom. Whatever I do is what a real dom would do. If I don't want to punish him--_ *

"But--"

* _\--then I don't have to punish him._ *

"* _Do you understand?_ *" snapped Steve, imbuing his voice with assertiveness strengthened by the wave of confidence that swept over him. He stopped circling behind Bucky and seized his shoulder, gripping tight. The flesh felt too firm, too solid,  beneath his fingers, and for the first time he noticed that Bucky's left arm hung awkwardly, rigid at his side.

Bucky slumped, tension ebbing from his shoulders, neck, and back.

"Yes, sir." He sounded disproportionately relieved, reminding Steve that he wasn't the only one navigating an unfamiliar dynamic.

* _How long has he been a sub? Because I'd bet my eyeteeth he wasn't ASAB any more than I was ADAB or AMAB..._ *

Steve waited for Bucky to continue and silence stretched out.

"Safeword?" he finally suggested gently.

"Um...right...uh...how about 'battalion.'"

"Good." Clenching his hand, Steve used his palm to massage the remaining tension from Bucky's shoulder. A sweet, vulnerable noise escaped Bucky as a sigh. "Hopefully we won't need it, but I won't risk your mental and physical health on a hope."

"I'm fine...fine..."

"Didn't say you weren't." Reaching around to Bucky's front, Steve undid the top button of Bucky's shirt, a second button, a third, leaning farther forward to reach each lower button. By the time he reached the last, tucked in above a worn silver belt buckle, Steve was hard against Bucky's back in more ways than one. Bucky smelled as good as he looked, cologne and leather intoxicating with every inhale, and Steve didn't bother resisting the temptation to press a soft kiss against Bucky's neck.

"You're beautiful," he breathed, lapping his tongue against Bucky's earlobe. Bucky shuddered and a soft smack of lips suggested he was about to speak, but he said nothing. "Already learning not to contradict me...that's good, very good..."

Steve took hold of the two sides of the opened shirt and drew it back, brushing his fingers over Bucky's undershirt and skimming lightly over the rock-hard abs beneath. Tracing the lines of Bucky's sides, Steve drew back so be could remove the garment and peeled them from Bucky's broad shoulders. His undershirt was short-sleeved and Steve paused to clasp bared built biceps, then froze. On Bucky's right, taut, hot flesh hardly puckered beneath Steve's grip, but on the other, there was only the chill of plastic and metal.

Bucky's left arm was a prosthetic.

Bucky's left arm was a prosthetic and Steve hadn't even * _noticed._ *

* _It doesn't matter if I noticed or not 'cause it's irrelevant - or, rather, it's not a negative. Heck, my entire existence is a prosthetic constructed of testosterone injections and body modification, and before that I used a strap on and a packer and a lot of wishful thinking to make up for my body's deficiencies._ *

* _But, having learned the truth about Bucky...now what? I don't want to offend him, hurt him, make him uncomfortable, or damage his arm. What's appropriate for me to say? Would it be rude to ask if he wants to remove it? Should I simply treat it as his second arm? I wish I'd noticed sooner. At least I could have thought these questions through so I wouldn't behave like an ass now._ *

The moment stretched out, and not until Bucky went rigid beneath him did Steve realize how long he'd been immobilized by uncertainty. Giving himself a mental shake, Steve resumed drawing Bucky's clothing off, tossing the shirt aside once his arms were freed. The prosthetic was impressive, plastic plates and molded synthetics and metal bars assembled expertly to give Bucky an elbow that could bend and fingers that looked real right down to the tense way they flexed against Bucky's thigh.

"Sir...I..." Heartbreaking sadness and uncertainty made Bucky's beautiful voice reedy and Steve regretted every second's hesitation that had stolen Bucky's luster.

"I'm sorry," whispered Steve into Bucky's ear. "My reaction has been inexcusable."

"Should I...do you want me to...?" Bucky's reluctance was clear but he eyed Steve's front door and tensed his leg muscles, on the verge of rising. "Should I leave?"

"Only if you wish to," said Steve. "But I'd prefer you stay."

"Really?" Hope and disbelief made equal parts in Bucky's response.

* _Who hurt you, that you're so sure I'd not want you because you have a prosthetic arm? How do I find them and make them regret every time they caused you pain? No - this relationship, if it even is a relationship, is too new for me to be this protective. It isn't my place to stand up for him._ *

* _Even if it_ *were* _my place how can I pretend I'm capable of standing up to anyone? I'm just a--_ *

* _\--I'm just a man, and a dom, though even if I was a woman and a sub, I could defend my friend, my partner, my...whatever Bucky is to me, whatever I want us to be to each other in the future. As long as Bucky wants me to be his dom, for the night, the week, forever, I will show him the respect and deference and trust that he deserves, and I will protect him, because that's my duty._ *

"I wouldn't lie to you about my interest," said Steve, imbuing sincerity into every syllable, every touch, every breath. "I'll never lie to you."

"Then why...?" Bucky swallowed. "Why'd you hesitate?"

"I was surprised," Steve admitted. "And I'm not sure if you'd like to wear your prosthetic during our scene and, if not, how to remove it. Didn't want to seem like an oblivious, inconsiderate asshole."

Bucky laughed. "You absolutely do not seem like an asshole. You, um...I'm glad it's you. Here. With me. Doing, uh, doing this...thing...we're doing." God, Bucky was adorable. "Do you want me to wear it?"

"It's entirely your choice - what I desire is whatever will most promote your happiness and comfort."

Bucky tensed and relaxed, tensed and relaxed, and Steve wished they had an established rapport that would allow him to ask what back-and-forth argument Bucky was having in his head, wished that Bucky knew Steve well enough to take him at his word and trust him.

* _With time...maybe...I hope..._ *

* _We barely know each other. Why should I hope for more based on our brief acquaintance? We've never even had a conversation..._ *

* _I don't know why I should hope, but it'd be stupid to pretend I don't feel that way, regardless of how little sense it makes. I think he's--_ *

Quick, decisive movements interrupted Steve's introspection as Bucky reached over with his right hand and, with practiced skill, did something Steve couldn't follow and came away holding his arm. A scarred stump was revealed, and Steve flinched to think of the pain that was suggested by the ragged wounds. Thank God he'd been gentle with Bucky, thank God he'd insisted on a safeword, because anyone who had sustained an injury like that must have a history, must have triggers, and Steve was determined not to hurt his sub.

* _My sub...?_ *

Bucky set his prosthetic on Steve's coffee table. As it left his hand Bucky's tension ebbed, his eyes slipped shut, and he once again surrendered to Steve's lead.

* _Definitely deliciously submissive...and definitely mine...if only for the night...so yes...my sub..._ *

Removing Bucky's undershirt firmed Steve's certainty that he'd done right to insist on basic safety precautions. Bucky's gorgeous chest was crossed by more scars, cutting pale lines through the dark hairs that curled over his torso. Moving to Bucky's front, Steve paused to admire, gaze locking on the thickening trail of hair that disappeared suggestively beneath Bucky's waistband and continuing up, past the concave curve of his belly, the clenched definition of his abdomen, the bulge of his pronounced yet masculine breasts, until he reached Bucky's face. His expression was fretful, uncertain, eyes lowered, and Steve was struck by how badly he was failing his sub. There was no excuse for Steve leaving Bucky in such confused suspense.

"Bucky," Steve said gently. Bucky chanced meeting his eyes, pale blue almost clear in the room's poor lighting, then looked away again. "Look at me." Bucky caught his lip between his teeth, still shying away from eye contact.

* _Maybe this is a "thing" for him? Maybe I shouldn't push him on meeting my eyes? But he'll tell me if I push too far..._ *

Quelling his nerves, Steve reached out, cradled Bucky's chin and drew his head up. Bucky didn't resist, smiling nervously as he obeyed.

"You're worried," said Steve. Bucky confirmed the supposition with a slight nod that easily overcame the strength of Steve's grip. "I won't tell you not to be. We're too new to each other for me to have anything but vacuous reassurances to offer. All I ask is that you trust me long enough for me to prove that I am a dom worthy of how beautiful, how giving, how amazing, I truly believe you are." Steve smiled. "Can you do that for me?"

Bucky's expression clouded and Steve's heart fell. Struggling to keep his composure, to keep smiling, he waited and was gratified when Bucky's eyes suddenly went wide and he said, "Holy shit, you're serious."

"Very," Steve replied.

"Wow...uh...yeah." Bucky nodded emphatically, shaking off Steve's hand. "Yeah, I can do that. Gladly. Enthusiastically. Sir."

"Awesome. Now, lie down and let me get those pants off. I want to see * _all_ * of you, and I have plans..."

Steve had never had a more gratifying experience than the alacrity with which Bucky obeyed him. Bucky's change in position betrayed for the first time the bulge of his hard cock straining against his pants, and the last of Steve's worries disappeared.

Bucky was the perfect sub for him.

Now Steve just had to prove, to Bucky and to himself, that he was the perfect dom for Bucky.

 


	2. Chapter 2

"Sir...sir, I...* _please_ *..."

Bucky's voice was gorgeous when he begged, low and rough and as visceral as an embrace. Steve shuddered, the soft fabric of his clothing abrasive against his over-sensitized skin. He breathed soothing sounds in Bucky's ear and stroked Bucky's cock, squeezing the head gently to tease out thin early release.

"Not yet," Steve said.

Bucky groaned, muscles in his arm and legs cording as he tensed against his restraints. Ropes bound him wrist and ankles to three corners of Steve's bed, done loosely enough that had Bucky wished to escape, he could easily do so.

"I can't...can't...aw, hell..."

Bucky didn't want his freedom. Tears streaked Bucky's cheeks and pooled in the curved bell of his ears. Sweat beaded on Bucky's chest where air wafted hot between their bodies. Shuddering breaths shook Bucky  with every rushed inhale, every juddering exhale. He trembled from head to toe.

He * _submitted._ *

"You can," whispered Steve. "You're doing great."

"I gotta...sir, I gotta come...fuck, I'll do anything, I'll--"

Steve took his hand from Bucky's cock and rocked back onto his knees, leaving Bucky isolated and untouched. Bucky wailed, twisting against his ropes.

"You are the most beautiful creature I've ever seen," Steve breathed.

Bucky answering moan was sweet, enticing, desperate. His hips worked up from the bed, thrusting at nothing, and he gulped air in a futile attempt to quell his cries. Though he started to speak several times, he aborted after a word or two. This was the fourth time Steve had brought Bucky to the edge of orgasm without permitting him to come. Bucky knew begging was futile.

"Sir...please, sir..."

...not that that stopped him. Steve was glad. He loved Bucky's begging, loved how powerful it made Steve feel to have the absolute authority to say "yes" or "no" to every desperate request.

"Yes, pet?"

Bucky shook his head, appearing to struggle within himself as he struggled against his bonds. Steve watched, accessing whether Bucky's behavior suggested real discomfort or if he was still lost in the moment. The scene was supposed to be rewarding for them both, and while that required some discomfort from his sub, Steve didn't want to cause Bucky pain, didn't want to say things that distressed him, didn't want to have cause to worry that when they parted the next morning he was sending Bucky off to suffer severe subdrop alone.

* _...even mild subdrop would be too much..._ *

* _...do I have to send him off? He seems to be enjoying this as much as I am...maybe he'll want to do this again..._ *

* _...or I could keep him tied to my bed..._ *

* _Focus...that's a conversation for later. There's no point in hypothesizing , and I certainly won't imprison him. I--_ *

"Sir..." Bucky strained to lift his head and blinked watery eyes at Steve, pupils so dilated they nearly eclipsed his blue irises.

"I can't read your mind," Steve scolded. "Tell me what you want, or wait until I'm ready for you again."

"May I see you?" Bucky blurted.

Oh.

That.

Steve was fully clothed.

Bucky was absolutely gorgeous and buck-ass naked.

* _It's too soon for me to show him. What if somehow he doesn't know what I am?  It wouldn't be the first time i thought things were copacetic with a partner only too have then freak. He might not have realized, just like I didn't recognize he was an amputee until--_ *

"Please, sir." The imploring catch in Bucky's voice was irresistible, but still Steve hesitated. Damn it, surgery was supposed to have quelled his doubts, killed his dysphoria, made him confident. He wanted to be * _himself,_ * regardless of his partner. He didn't want to be afraid to be nude during sex.

What he wanted didn't matter; too many times when he'd disrobed his partners had called things off. With such a history hanging over him, nerves were normal, the queasiness in his stomach was normal, the fear tightening his throat and killing his erection were depressingly normal. It would be stranger if he * _wasn't_ * worried.

Steve hated that he hesitated, hated that he was afraid.

And Bucky looked so * _hopeful._ *

"Of course I'll strip," Steve relented.

* _Please don't let this scare him away. I want him so badly...too badly...please, Bucky, react better to my body modifications than_ _I_ _reacted to yours..._ *

Reaching down, Steve grasped the hem of his shirt to lift it off, to reveal his pale scrawny chest and the twinned scars under his breasts.

Fear stayed his hand.

"But only because you've been so good for me," Steve continued, dropping the edge of the shirt. * _Time...I just need more time..._ * "I'll take off one item for each time I've brought you to the edge." Bucky's smile was broad with relief, and he slumped back with a satisfied sigh.

* _Yes  that'll work perfectly._ *

Confidence and self-control restores, Steve smirked, leaned down, and removed one shoe. He held it up so Bucky could see.

"One."

Bucky groaned.

Steve took off his other shoe. "Two." A sock. "Three." The other sock. "Four."

"Geeze, you tryin' to kill me?" groaned Bucky. "How many more times do I gotta keep from coming before I get to see you naked?"

"Pants, shirt, undershirt, boxers."

"Four more..." Bucky drew a deep breath. "I can...I can do that. Okay. I'm ready. Sir."

* _If he can face being brought to the brink of orgasm four more times,_ _I_ _can face_ _exposing_ _myself to him_ _and_ _risking his reaction. Together, we are stronger, dom and sub, than either of us could ever be_ _alone_ _._ *

"It's cute that you think you're prepared." Steve smiled pleasantly. Controlling Bucky gave Steve power, courage, strength. Everytime Bucky submitted he reaffirmed that Steve's self-perception matched reality. 

* _Bucky_ _isn't_ _like the others. He accepts me. This is who_ _I_ _am. I_ *am* _a dom_ *

A second groan choked in Bucky's throat as Steve sank onto the bed beside him and wrapped a hand around his cock. "If you behave, I'll let you decide which item I remove next."

"Yes, s--"

Steve jerked up the length of Bucky's cock and roughly stroked back down. Bucky thrashed, cried out as he bit his tongue, and struggled to thrust into Steve's grip.

It was a long time before Bucky said anything coherent again.

* * *

"Wow..."

The awe in Bucky's voice as Bucky stared at Steve killed the last of Steve's doubts. His boxers slipped through his fingers and * _fwumped_ * to the floor and Steve stood, naked before someone else and for the first time in his life completely unashamed. A flush of happiness mottled red splotches down Steve's pale chest and he smiled bliss and satisfaction at his handiwork.

Bucky was * _ruined._ * Sweat matted his dark hair to his forehead and stained the sheets beneath him. Red ringed his wrist and ankles where he'd writhed against his rope cuffs. Precome and lubricant made a sodden mess of his pubic hair. He shuddered with every breath, moaning softly, shaking tears from his open eyes. His flushed cock yet stood erect, unsatisfied, still hard after so long teased relentlessly. Steve marveled that Bucky could even see him, was surprised Bucky was coherent enough to speak.

"May I touch you, sir?" asked Bucky, hoarse and broken.

A wave of pleasure coursed through Steve. The supplication in Bucky's voice was delicious. Speechless, Steve nodded and slinked forward, laying his slight form over Bucky's broad one. Skin brushed skin, the lightest of tingling touches, and Bucky moaned as if on the verge of coming. Bliss sparked at every point of contact, more intense than anything Steve had experienced before. Edging Bucky had made him so over-sensitized that he wept at their meager contact, and had scarce made Steve less so. He didn't realize how touch-starved he was until he settled atop Bucky and felt the glorious press of hot, sweaty flesh from head to toe.

"You've been amazing, Buck," Steve whispered, sinuously rutting against Bucky. "The most beautiful, the most strong willed, the hottest damn thing I've ever seen."

"Thank you, sir," Bucky croaked.

"Do you think you can hold off one more time?" Steve asked, pressing their crotches together. Bucky cried out and thrust up from the bed, knocking his cock against Steve's testicles. "Answer me!"

"Anything for you, sir," Bucky gasped. "Anything if you'll fuck me!"

Steve's world went topsy-turvy.

Bucky.

Wanted.

Steve.

To.

Fuck.

Him.

It was a damn wonder Steve didn't come on the spot. Steve's blood simmered, his skin flashed clammy hot with sweat, and he shuddered and moaned.

"Please, sir - anything, anything - I'll do anything, I'll be anything! I need you--"

* _Get it together, Steve - Bucky needs you._ *  
  
"--need this, need--"

"I've got you," Steve murmured, proud of how in control he sounded. He hung on to his self-control by a fingernail. "Shh...shh...of course I'll fuck you, pet. And I'm so sure you'll be a good boy and not come before then, why don't I get you ready?"

Steve rolled away to get the lubricant and Bucky wailed as if bereft. Steve had never seen a sub so gone, couldn't believe that he was the dom that had brought another person to such a state of desperation. Murmuring soothing nothings, he squeezed lube onto his fingers and nudged Bucky's thighs apart with his knee. Bucky's crotch was groomed but still hairy, pubes tidy around his cock and perineum, his puckered asshole shaved clean. Under Steve's scrutiny, the hole clenched and relaxed, clenched and relaxed, and Bucky's cock twitched each time.

Steve waited until Bucky's muscles eased and pressed two fingers into Bucky, way rough as he smoothed lubricant through the dry channel.

Bucky screamed and went rigid. Steve placed a hand on his belly to ease him back down to the bed - "that's a good boy - calmly, now, stay calm - don't want to hurt you, don't want you to come, not yet" - and Steve waited until Bucky's frantic inhales were less fractured before he eased his fingers out and thrust back in. Bucky's insides were hot and tight, a little squishy, a little firm, layers of sensitive skin folded and folded and folded again. Steve pressed against the walls surrounding him, rubbed at the soft spots, and delighted in how Bucky squirmed and whimpered.

* _He's so sensitive, so responsive...I love the sounds he makes, the way he moves...this'll never get old..._ *

* _...and soon, his hole will be around my cock._ *

There was no doubt in Steve's mind that Bucky would hold out through being edged one more time. Bucky was incredible. Bucky could do * _anything_ * at Steve's command.

The tight nub of skin separating Bucky's channel from his prostate made a lump beneath Steve's searching fingers. Gently, Steve rubbed against it. Bucky's answering gasp went straight to Steve's head. Steve was breathless, desperate, could hardly wait for the grand finale. Only staring at Bucky's until his eyes burned kept Steve focused; he watched his fingers disappear into Bucky's body, watched them thrust in and out over and over, watched Bucky's cock quiver with every thrust. His ears were filled with the desperate, choked sounds as Bucky sobbed his bliss. Bucky was too tired to fight his restraints, but he twitched and wiggled, clenched and relaxed, squirmed and gasped as Steve massaged his prostate.

"Sir!" Bucky cried, desperate.

* _Come on, Steve, tell him_ _he's_ _done well enough...once this is done, I get to..._ *

"Oh, fuck, fuck, sir!"

* _...but Bucky can take more. I want to see him pushed to his limit._ *

"My * _God_ * that's good - too good - sir!"

* _I want to push him past what he believes himself capable of, want to set him up to succeed spectacularly, want to feel when he shatters with my dick inside him._ *

"No - stop, stop, stop...don't...I have to come, have to, don't stop, don't stop, don't--"

* _...just a little more..._ *

Steve leaned down, Bucky's cock so close to his face that the musty scent of his crotch filled Steve's nose and early release smeared over Steve's cheek. Steve thrust his fingers in hard, lay the flat of his tongue against the base of Bucky's cock, and licked up Bucky's delicious length as he pressed a nail into Bucky's prostate.

"Sir!" Bucky's cry pulled Steve from his abstraction. Surging up from the bed, Bucky wrenched Steve's fingers from within him but it was too late; with a shattered groan Bucky came, semen spurting from him in such quantity Steve hardly believed Bucky had contained it all. Lengths of sticky white clung to Bucky's pubes and streaked his chest. Steve was awed; not until Bucky collapsed, gasping and spent, did disappointment sank like a pit in his stomach. Another thick surge of come leaked slowly down Bucky's length.

Bucky had come.

Steve wasn't going to get to fuck him.

* _I couldn't leave well enough alone. Had to push a little harder. Had to ask too much. Damn, I stink at this. What was I thinking? I'm not cut out to be a--_ *

A weak, pathetic sound intruded on Steve's self-condemnation.

* _Bucky._ *

Tearing his gaze from Bucky's softening dick, Steve looked up. Bucky was limp against the bedding, his arm curled under his head - he must have finally pulled his restraint free - and he sobbed, unrestrainedly, brokenly, in despair.

* _I did this to him._ *

* _Oh God._ *

"Bucky." The name was thick in Steve's throat and produced no reaction. Alarmed, Steve reached down to tug Bucky's legs free of their bindings, strained and rolled Bucky onto his side, lined their bodies up face to face, chest to chest, crotch to crotch, and held him. Bucky let himself be repositioned, helpless and unresisting, and only struggled when Steve tried to move his face.

"Bucky - Bucky, look at me."

Bucky shook his head, shoulders trembling as he wept.

"I won't force you, but please - okay, if you won't look, listen." No reaction. "Bucky, are you listening?" No reaction. "Answer me, * _pet,_ *" Steve snapped.

Bucky started and flinched. "I'm listening, sir," he whispered.

"Why are you crying?" Steve suspected the answer but making assumptions - believing he knew more about Bucky than Bucky knew about himself - was what had brought them to this point - had caused Bucky to suffer needlessly. He wouldn't risk Bucky's mental health further by guessing what had brought Bucky to such misery. Steve needed to * _know_ * to formulate a strategy for fixing what he had broken.

"Came," Bucky managed amidst his tears. "Failed. You were..." Bucky hiccuped. "You were so good to me, and I failed you."

"No, you didn't."

"Did."

"Are you arguing with your dom?"

That brought Bucky up short. He lifted his head, eyelashes thick with moisture, eyes rimmed red, and blinked at Steve. Steve's answering smile served only to confuse Bucky more.

"You didn't fail me, Bucky. * _I_ * failed * _you._ *"

"Sir?"

"You tried to tell me you were at your limit, and even though our acquaintance is too new for me to know your capabilities, I ignored you and tried to push you further. I'm here to set you up for success and instead I set you up to fail. I'm so sorry."

Incredulous, Bucky gawked at Steve. At least he was no longer crying. "That's not..."

"Are you arguing with your dom * _again?_ *"

"No sir...* _yes_ * sir...that's not...* _I'm_ * here for * _you_ * to use!"

"Is that really what you want?" asked Steve. Bucky loved being touched tenderly and sweetly, excelled while being pushed to his limit, glowed whenever Steve praised him. Despite Bucky's answering nod, Steve was sure Bucky wanted to be cared for, coddled and caressed, not controlled and punished. Bucky shied away from Steve's stern look, and finally shook his head, profoundly ashamed. "I'm *sorry," Steve repeated. Bucky shook his head again. "I'm sorry." Another shake of the head. "I'll keep saying it until you accept that I'm right and I screwed up."

* _...didn't_ _I_ _just think_ _I_ _should trust his self-assessment? But_ _this_ _is different...I watched him_ _throughout_ _the scene and saw how he_ _reacted_ _to_ _every show of tenderness. Some subs want to be_ _treated_ _harshly, but Bucky?_ *

"I'm sorry, Bucky. This * _is_ * my fault."

"But I came," said Bucky, adorably forlorn. "I let you down."

"You didn't," Steve promised gently. "You were spectacular. I've never been with someone as amazing. You've gotta believe me."

"Don't lie," Bucky snapped the accusation, rolling weakly away. "I know I screwed up. I know you wanted to fuck me. And because I broke..." Bucky shook his head.

Anticipation flared like wildfire through Steve. Unable to contain his desire, he asked breathlessly, "You still want me to fuck you?"

Rolling back to face him, Bucky stared at Steve as if he'd grown two heads.

"Is that a yes?" Steve asked.

"It's an h-e-double-hockey-sticks to the fuck yeah, yes." Damn if Bucky didn't sound as enthusiastic as Steve felt.

* _How the fuck is Bucky even real? Fricken_ * wow.

"Then I'll fuck you."

"But...I failed!"

"That is * _not_ * for you to say," snarled Steve. Bucky started at the aggression in Steve's voice and stared. "You agreed to let me be your dom. At least for tonight, you are * _my_ * sub. I decide what constitutes success and failure. I change the rules of the game if I want to, when I want to. You get no say unless I offer you one. And now I'm asking you, yes or no: do you want me to fuck you right now?"

"Yes, sir!" Bucky snapped with military precision, awe and desire slackening his expression.

* _This is, hands down, the best night of my life._ *

"Then on your back, boy!"

* _Heck, if reincarnation is a thing I'll go out on a limb and say this is the best night of my last several lives._ *

Bucky scrambled to obey.

* _Screw that. Best night_ * ever * _bar none any life any place anywhere. Entirely possible I'm dead and this is heaven._ *

Bucky spread his legs and offered his ass, glimmering with lubricant, for Steve's perusal and use.

* _Scratch that, heaven could never be this filthy naughty and I'm totally okay with that._ *

Steve climbed between Bucky's legs, erection hard against Bucky's thighs. Even stiff Steve looked small next to Bucky's soft cock.

* _It doesn't matter. Bucky has seen me. Bucky accepts me. Bucky wants me. Bucky_ *begged* _for me to_ _fuck_ _him._ *

Steve would give Bucky what he deserved.

Steve had never topped before. He didn't know what to expect, only that he needed to fuck Bucky like he needed air.

* _This is going to be glorious._ *

Lining himself up with a hand, brushing the sensitive tip of his dick over Bucky's opening, Steve leaned over and whispered in Bucky's ear.

"Good boy."

Any reply Bucky might have made was obliterated by their matched groans as Steve pushed into Bucky's body.

Entering Bucky was better than glorious. Sweltering heat enveloped Steve, unspeakable pressure-made-bliss encompassed him, and he wasn't sure if his eyes closed or if his vision went blank.

"Fuck," he whispered.

He didn't dare thrust in and out. The prospect of slipping out of Bucky's body was too horrifying to contemplate. Flattening his hips over Bucky's ass, Steve thrust up, thrust up, rutted so hard against Bucky that they slid incrementally up the mattress.

Guttural noises escaped them both, an erotic chorus where their individual voices couldn't be discerned. Every movement felt monumental, every touch immense, and Steve chased his orgasm, unable to heed the voice in his head suggesting he slow down and make sure that Bucky was alright. Bucky could stop Steve if he had to, and Steve was incinerated by desire and need. The most intense orgasm of his past didn't hold a candle to his current bonfire. Steve rode his highest high continually until he became so overwhelmed he couldn't move. Sobbing, he pressed his forehead to Bucky's shoulder blade and shook as aftershocks jolted him. Bucky clenched around him. The pleasure hit a pitch that crossed the line into pain, and Steve resisted the urge to beg Bucky to stop, beg him to go still, beg him to be Steve's sub forever.

The room went suddenly, astonishingly quiet and still save for Steve's frantic breaths.

"Was that good, sir?" asked Bucky timidly.

The tension holding Steve up, holding him together, evaporated. He collapsed onto Bucky's back, cock slipping free of Bucky's ass, and laughed breathlessly, laughed exuberantly, laughed as if he'd discovered humor for the first time and it was glorious and perfect, joy given form as euphoric noise.

* _Bucky_ * was glorious and perfect.

"I'm going to take that as a yes..."

Still laughing, Steve rolled off Bucky and onto the bed, grabbed Bucky's cheeks and tugged him into a sloppy kiss.

Their first kiss.

"Yes, pet."

Their second kiss.

"Yes, boy."

Their third kiss.

"Yes, sub."

The first four if what Steve hoped would be uncountable kisses.

"Yes, * _Bucky,_ * that was * _perfect._ *"

Bucky smiled, vulnerable, small and sweet, and Steve was buoyed so high by pleasure and delight he was surprised he didn't float up to the ceiling. Only a single thought brought him back down to earth.

* _What do I say, what do I do, to make sure this first time isn't the last?_ *

* _It isn't up to me. It's up to him._ *

* _Please, god...please let Bucky choose me..._ *

* * *

Bucky stretched out beside Steve, long and languid, the embodiment of divinity given flesh. Slow, deep breaths spoke to his having fallen peacefully asleep, his arm over his head, legs fallen at awkward angles, cock soft and flopped on one of his thighs. Steve should sleep - he was tired enough - but his fears kept him awake, kept him staring, kept him memorizing Bucky lest the memories of the night have to last him a lifetime. Bucky's appearance, Bucky's scent, the sound of Bucky's voice, the taste of Bucky's cock, the feel of Bucky's skin, Steve etched them all into his mind, cherished every aspect, basked in Bucky's glory even as he attempted futilely to restrain his runaway hopes that they might meet again. Reaching out, he touched Bucky's side, stared at the flinch and pucker of the skin, and dared to dream.

"You wanna take a picture? It'll last longer." Sleep fuzzed Bucky's voice. Jerking his gaze up, Steve was surprised to meet open, clear, lovely eyes watching Steve as intently as Steve watched Bucky. "Or is that just me?"

"You'd like my picture?" asked Steve, smiling.

"Depends."

Surprised, Steve propped himself up on an elbow to get a better look at Bucky's face. The ease and comfort he saw there quieted his concerns.

"Depends on what?" Steve asked.

"Maybe...could I get more than a picture?" Bucky's gaze raked Steve's body suggestively, and his hand went to his throat. The hope Steve had tried to repress flared, quickening his breathing, speeding up his heartbeat.

"Depends." His attempt at a modest reply was ruined by his unmasked eagerness.

"Depends on what?" Bucky grinned.

"What kinda 'more' did you have in mind?"

"A second chance to prove I'm the sub for you," said Bucky, mirroring Steve's half-reclined position.

"Oh hell, Bucky, no second chance needed!" said Steve. "I've been damn sure you were the sub for me since about five minutes after we met. Does that mean...am I the dom for you?"

Bucky snorted. Even that was sexy. What the hell. "You fricken moron, of course you are. I do have one question, though."

Nerves flared and possible questions spun through Steve's anxious thoughts. One look at the earnest look on Bucky's face quelled his concerns.

"Ask me anything," said Steve serenely. "I'm an open book."

"Are you, now?" Bucky laughed. "Be careful with an offer like, a guy - even a sub like me - might take you up on it. But for now I'll go easy on you. This one is real simple." There was a pause which, judging by Bucky's smirk, was for dramatic effect. "What the hell is your name?"

"Oh God," Steve groaned, flopping onto his back and pressing his palms against his eyes, mortified. "Seriously? I didn't tell you my damn name?"

"Nope."

"And you came home with me anyway?" Steve asked incredulously, moving his hands to look at Bucky.

Bucky shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a sucker for a pretty face and a take-charge attitude. And I think I judged pretty damn well cause you sure delivered. But...name? Don't get me wrong, I'll still call you 'sir' when it counts, but..."

"Steve. I'm Steve Rogers."

"Nice ta meet ya." Bucky surged up to sit cross-legged next to Steve and pantomimed tipping an imaginary hat. "James Buchanan Barnes. But you can call me--"

"Whatever I want."

"True." Damn, Bucky got the cutest, most startled, most pleased expression whenever Steve asserted himself. * _I could get used to that. And heck, maybe I'll get the chance to._ * "But I'll own I was partial to 'pet.'"

"Were you?" Turning the idea over in his head, Steve sat up and faced Bucky, imagining him collared, imagining him gagged, imagining him on all fours like a good bitch waiting for his alpha.

* _Fuck, even our kinks match. It's like he was made for me. No. It's too soon for me to think that way. We barely know each other. There's no need to rush things._ *

Bucky gave him a shy smile and nodded.

"Very well, pet." Steve was rewarded by Bucky shivering and bobbing his head. "Don't worry, I'll take excellent care of you."

"I know you will, Steve."

"Would you like me to get you a leash for our next scene?"

"Fuck, that'd be..." Swallowing back breathless enthusiasm, Bucky said hoarsely, "That'd be great."

Reaching across the small space dividing them, Steve took Bucky's hand and massaged the back of it with his thumb until Bucky looked calm and easy once more. Watching Bucky's every move, every shift in expression, Steve let his fantasies take flight. There was so much they could do together, so much they could be to each other.

* _It's too soon to conjecture so far into our supposed shared future. We've had sex once. We've had one conversation. He didn't even know my name until a few minutes ago._ *

* _Bullshit. It's not too soon. Bucky looked at me in the club and saw a little femme subby boy and when I made it clear I was an assertive man and a dom he accepted me instantly. Whenever he could have looked at me and said, 'no, who you present yourself as is not who you are, I know better who you are than you do' he has instead_ _supported_ _me, reinforced me, strengthened me_ _enthusiastically_ _, without question._ *

Yawning, Bucky lifted their joined hands to cover his mouth and then laughed ruefully. "Forgot we were...ya know..." he said, and dropped Steve's hand.

* _And I've accepted him, tall and broad and strong and desperate to be dominated, scarred and one-armed and perfectly, beautifully capable._ *

* _We are who we are, no changes needed._ *

Steve surged across the bed and knocked them both prone, placing a hand over Bucky's mouth as a second yawn turned into a surprised squawk. The tumbled together, arms and legs tangled, bodies pressed close. Bucky's arm encircled Steve's back, Steve's hands settled on either side of Bucky's head, and they stared into each others faces.

"Use my hand if you want," said Steve. "Use me however you want. You tell me what you need, and I'll do my damnedest to deliver for you."

"You've got some damn queer ideas what it means to be a dom," said Bucky, shaking his head.

* _Truly, what better basis for a long term relationship, a successful relationship, is there than mutual acceptance?_ *

"Don't pretend you don't dig it."

* _There is no better basis. Bucky will be my sub for a long, long time._ *

Bucky's smile slipped into a serious, soft expression. "I do," he whispered. "I had a fantastic time tonight. I can't wait until you collar me, Steve."

* _I can't wait until I can truly call you mine._ *

"You'll have to wait, pet," said Steve. "You have to prove yourself worthy of me first."

* _I can't wait until you call me yours._ *

"Yes, sir!"

* _I'm so fucking glad I went to the club today._ *

Curling on to his side, Steve shivered as Bucky curled around him, a protective, obedient big spoon. Bucky's breath stirred Steve's hair, his arm encircled Steve's belly, his chest was solid and supportive against Steve's back, and his soft cock pressed against the cleft of Steve's ass. Embraced, Steve felt warm, safe, cared for.

* _This is so good already..._ *

Steve wrapped his arm around Bucky's arm, cradled Bucky's hand in his.

* _...and I can't wait to learn how much better we can be together._ *

With a content sigh, Bucky relaxed against hin.

* _I've always wanted a sub of my own._ *

"And such a good boy," murmured Steve. Bucky mumbled, incomprehensible and tender, and fell asleep.

* _My good boy._ *

* _My ideal pet._ *

* _My Bucky._ *

Steve slipped into sleep, happier than he had ever been.

* _Until tomorrow...*_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me at unforth-ninawaters.tumblr.com!

**Author's Note:**

> AMAB - assigned male at birth  
> ASAB - assigned sub at birth   
> ADAB - assigned dom at birth
> 
> Chapter two posts tomorrow.


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